Golden Boy
by cousin D
Summary: Lacroix meets Nicholas for the first time while Nicholas is still a child.  Warnings for child abuse and Lacroix almost being a nice guy.


None of these characters are mine. Pity.  
Warning Child abuse  
  
  
Golden Boy  
  
Written by Cousin D  
  
  
Lucien Lacroix rode through the dark forest, on his huge black stallion. Even with the thousands of horses he'd ridden in his long life, he had to admit this creature was magnificent. This was a war-horse, bred for battle, with a fiery temper, but well disciplined. Just what Lacroix liked in an animal.  
  
Lacroix was dressed in the usual costume of this time with a large gold medallion hanging from a chain around his throat. No matter the life he assumed, traveling through out the world and time, Lacroix had never been poor and even in this filthy, disorganized place; he was a man of high standing. He didn't do this for appearances, but because it was just him.   
  
He was known as a baron in the lonely countryside of France. His manor was one that had been abandoned for many years before he'd found it and had it remade from the ground up. It had been easy to come up with the meager evidence and bribes that law demanded that he was the rightful heir to this barony. Aristotle had taken care of the little details with his usual efficiency.  
  
Now Lacroix rode to his home after a night of successful hunting with his stomach full of warm, rich blood. Two poachers had invaded his land, hunting his animals. It didn't matter to him that the men were providing needed food for the their families. It mattered even less that they were starving as they attacked the wild boar with their bare hands. They had managed to kill the beast, but suffered terrible wounds in the process. The only thing that bothered the ancient vampire as he drank their life from them was the dreadful smell.  
  
Did no one bathe in this land?  
  
Not that he was any worse for the loss of the boar. Thieves could have killed every animal in his forest and it didn't affect him in the least (animal blood was an abhorrence to his aristocratic mind). It was the fact that they had stolen from him. They had taken what was his and his cold, imperial mind could not tolerate this.  
  
Lacroix thought of his lovely Jeanette, away in Germany, visiting some cousins. She had done so well since he had bought her across and just a few months after her conversion she had become independent. She rarely needed him any more.  
  
He was not lonely!  
  
Lacroix's stern pride would never allow him to admit something like that, even to himself. Though, he did believe that the evenings were passing very slowly since she'd left. Jeanette was his only child, after so long as a master vampire, Lacroix was very particular about who he brought into his family. Jeanette had something that interested him. In her eyes, the night he'd rescued her from the soldier intent on raping her, there had been fight. A defiance and intelligence that was rare, especially in a woman of this time. It was the fight and the intelligence that would see to her survival throughout the centuries.  
  
The full moon shone like a silver coin in the blackness of the sky and Lacroix heard a heart beat in the darkness of the forest. He pulled his horse roughly to a halt and turned his head to the side slightly as he listened. Surely, not another poacher?   
  
Curious, the tall, regal man dismounted his horse gracefully and looked briefly around before focusing on the heartbeat. He followed the soft, steady thumping on silent feet, as only a vampire could.   
  
Lacroix came to the edge of the path and, surprisingly, found a small boy sleeping beside a fallen tree.  
  
Lacroix raised and eyebrow. Odd. True, orphans were not unusual, but they tended to stay in the villages and cities where begging and stealing were easier. Also, this boy was dressed quite well, in sturdy woolen clothes. His hair was curly blonde and looked as thought it had been brushed recently. His skin bore the dark tan of one who spent his days in the sun, but his hands did not look as if he worked very hard as he had no calluses. No peasant child, then.  
  
Lacroix sat on the fallen log and studied the child with a hand on his chin. There was something different about the boy.   
  
As though he felt the ancient's eyes on him, the boy woke slowly, rubbing his eyes tiredly. The boy looked up at the older man staring down at him and met Lacroix's amused gaze with steady, bright blue eyes, completely unafraid.   
  
The boy sat up and crossed his legs and they stared at each other for several moments before Lacroix said, "Shouldn't all good little boys be in bed at this hour?"  
  
"I'm not going home tonight." The boy said seriously, his voice was soft and, to Lacroix, he sounded as if he'd had some education. That meant that he likely came from a well to do family, if not nobility.  
  
"And where is home?"  
  
"I'm not telling." The boy frowned at Lacroix and crossed his arms over his thin chest stubbornly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you'll take me back and I don't wasn't to go back yet."   
  
Lacroix, by now, had noticed the child's blackened eyes and guessed why he didn't wish to go home. Still, it wasn't a terribly unusual thing to find that a child's parent had beaten them.  
  
"I can assure you I have no interest in escorting you home." Lacroix told him honestly. Why should he care if this little creature went to his home for wandered in the forest until wolves caught up with him?  
  
The boy thought carefully and looked at Lacroix cautiously. "I live at Brabant manor." He said finally.  
  
Lacroix knew the place, thought he had never seen reason to pay a visit on his neighbor. He knew he should take the boy as a dessert or simply leave him out here, but something stopped him.  
  
He stood abruptly and walked to where his horse waited obediently. Lacroix looked back to where the boy watched him curiously.  
  
"Come along, child. We are closer to my home than to yours, I expect. You may spend the day with me and tomorrow night I shall send you on your way." Seeing that the boy hesitated warily, Lacroix added, "I'll not take you back unless you wish it."  
  
Finally, the boy stood and made his way to Lacroix. In addition to the bruised eye, Lacroix could now see that he limped on his left leg. He was small, even for an eight-year-old and scrawny as if he were under fed.  
  
Lacroix easily lifted the small boy onto his horse and then swung himself up with the grace of someone who'd been riding for a thousand years.  
  
With one hand on the reins and his other arm wrapped around his new "Guest" to prevent any accidental falls, he spurred his horse into an easy canter.  
  
"I've forgotten my manners," Lacroix said after a little while of silence. "I am Lucien Lacroix. What is your name?"  
  
"Nicholas de Brabant."  
  
Lacroix could smell several years worth of filth on he boy. Honestly! If these savages weren't caught in a rainstorm, he was convinced they would go their whole lives with out bathing. The thought was absolutely appalling his Roman sensibilities. He was able to adapt to almost any change as the years passed without any qualms, but the idea of keeping one's self clean, however, was not something he would give up. Lacroix had faith that one day cleanliness would come back into fashion.  
  
Until that desperately awaited day, Nicholas would have to be cleaned if they were to spend the day together.   
  
Thinking of the quickly approaching day made Lacroix spur his horse onto a fast gallop. He intensely disliked close calls. Lacroix preferred things to be in control.   
  
His control.  
  
Nicholas leaned forward, excited by the sudden burst of speed and Lacroix could hear the rush of his blood. The boy's heart pounded loudly and, looked down at he small child in front of him, Lacroix felt his fangs extend. With iron will, Lacroix forced them back and took control of his hunger. Time enough for that later.  
  
For now, this Nicholas intrigued him.  
  
They arrived at Lacroix's manor long before the sun began to rise and he lifted tiny Nicholas off the horse as a groom came out to meet them. Lacroix employed a full staff of servants as he was not about to lower himself to do the menial labors life demanded.  
  
He led the boy into the main house, holding him by the hand. As usual, none of the servants or serfs dared to question this peculiar sight, as their vile tempered master walked through he corridors with his guest.   
  
Nicholas, for his part, followed with childish trust, to wherever Lacroix might be leading him. They went to the library, Lacroix's favorite room. It had no windows, of coarse, and a great set of books, nearly one hundred, all set on a large oak table. There were several chairs and a burning fireplace. On the table there was also a stringed musical instrument, which Nicholas had no idea what it was called.  
  
Lacroix sat in his chair and watched as Nicholas explored the room, totally relaxed.  
  
"Are you hungry?" Lacroix asked softly.  
  
At the mention of food, Nicholas immediately stopped his exploring and swung to look at Lacroix with a beaming smile and bright eyes. Obviously, like every boy, his stomach ruled him.  
  
"Yes, sir!"   
  
"Then you will wash for dinner."  
  
"Wash?" The child repeated, puzzled.  
  
Lacroix stifled a groan and called out, "Mary!" A plump, young maid came bustling in and curtsied to her lord. "Have a tub of warmed water prepared in my quarters." The girl nodded and hurried away. She was familiar, by now, to his odd, dangerous habit of washing nearly every day. "Strip." Lacroix ordered Nicholas. Even if it were only for a short while, he would not have this dirty, smelly urchin in his home.  
  
Nicholas, used to obeying orders, stripped to the waist and took off his boots, leaving him only in his loose fitting trousers. Lacroix saw half-healed scars and a few infected wounds. He could also see, quite clearly, the boy's ribs.  
  
Without hesitation, Lacroix picked up the flea-infested garments and tossed them into the flames of his fire.  
  
"Hey!" The boy objected angrily. "What'll I wear home, now?" He glared up at Lacroix, still unafraid.  
  
Lacroix smiled, amused. It was pleasant to meet someone who wasn't afraid of him. Usually, his vampire nature combined with his cold personality was enough to send grown men to tears or to soil their trousers. And here was an under grown, beaten, half-starved child who would stand up to him over and old shirt.   
  
This could be quite diverting.  
  
"I thought you weren't going home?" Lacroix said completely unrepentant about his action.   
  
"Well, I have to go home sometime." Nicholas said as though it were obvious. "I can't run away forever!"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I have to take care of mother. She's going to have a baby." Nicholas to told him proudly.  
  
"You have a father, surely? Will he not care for your mother?"  
  
Nicholas' face darkened and he let his gaze fall to the floor. Lacroix moved to stand in front of Nicholas and took the boy's chin in his hand. He raised Nicholas' face to look him in the eyes. "Tell me." He ordered in his soft, velvet voice.  
  
Nicholas looked angry at first and then sighed and decided to tell the truth. "Father drinks to much. He gets angry when he drinks and he wants to hurt mother. I try to distract him so he won't hurt her. He beats me, but he forgets mother and goes to sleep."  
  
"And what does your mother think of your protection?"  
  
Nicholas frowned. "She doesn't like me to do it. But, I can't let him hurt her, can I?"  
  
"Of coarse not." Lacroix firmly agreed. "Protecting your family is your most important duty." In his life Lacroix fully understood the necessity of discipline for one's children for their own well being. Left to be lawless and without respect for anyone, they would be unhappy, dead, or both.  
  
Beating a child in the midst of a drunken rage, however, was another thing entirely.   
  
Mary entered at this point to tell her lord that the bath water was ready and Lacroix instructed her to find suitable clothing for their young visitor, including a nightshirt.  
  
Once in Lacroix's bedchambers, Nicholas eyed the tub of steaming water, warily. He had obviously been brought up with the popular notion that one bathed twice in one's life. Once at birth and once at death. This assumption would have to be corrected.   
  
Lacroix went to the table beside his bed and took a bar of rough lye soap from a clay dish and a washing rag.   
  
"Are you sure about this?" Nicholas asked when Lacroix handed him the items.   
  
"Finish undressing. The sooner you get clean, the sooner you eat."  
  
The low grumbling in his belly was enough to overcome his fear of the water and Nicholas climbed in. While he washed, Lacroix busied himself on some correspondence that had come earlier in the day.   
  
It wasn't long before Nicholas stood and began to get out of the tub.   
  
"What do you think you're doing?" Lacroix asked not looking up from his letters.  
  
"I'm clean, now." Nicholas said defensively.   
  
Lacroix looked up and instantly focused on the one missed area. He could practically smell the fleas infesting the boy's hair!  
  
Standing, with a frown, Lacroix rolled his sleeves up and strode over to the puzzled looking boy. Without a word of warning, Lacroix put his hand on the top of Nicholas' head and pushed down.  
  
Nicholas barely had time for a startled yelp before he was submerged in the now luke warm water. He came up spluttering indignantly then his head did Lacroix's hands and the bar of soap assault roughly. He soon stopped resisting and let himself be cleaned.   
  
Only when Lacroix was absolutely certain that he was cleaned was Nicholas allowed to get out of the tub and wrap up in a large woolen blanket as Lacroix had also thrown his trousers into the fire. Nicholas now sat awkwardly on Lacroix's huge bed, not certain what he should do next. He sat there silently while Lacroix continued through his pile of letters.   
  
He was delighted to find one from his sweet Jeanette.  
  
Lacroix looked up when he noticed the boy staring at him. "Can we eat now?" Nicholas asked impatiently.   
  
"After you are dressed." Lacroix replied.  
  
"But I don't need clothes to eat." Nicholas objected.  
  
Lacroix looked at him sternly. "Civilized people do not eat unclothed. We will wait for Mary. " The sun had long since risen so the meal would have to be served in the safety of his chambers. There had been windows in here once. Long ago, but he had ordered them sealed up by a mason as soon as he'd taken over the manor.  
  
Mary returned with a white linen nightshirt and said, "I'm sorry, master, but we've nothing to fit the young sir, this is should do well enough for the night and I've set the seamstress to work on something for the morning."  
  
"Very well, it will have to do." Lacroix said. Actually, Mistress Guluna was a most talented seamstress and Nicholas was surer to return home better dressed than he'd left. Lacroix took the proffered shirt from his servant and he told Nicholas to dress himself. He dismissed Mary after ordering a large meal to be served in his chambers.  
  
When he turned back to the Nicholas, the change was startling. The boy was golden! With tanned skin and bright eyes the color of the long forgotten morning sky, and hair like sunlight captured.   
  
Nicholas, who ate as though he would never see such a feast again, greedily devoured the meal of roasted mutton, bread with butter, apples, and water.   
  
"So," Lacroix asked, watching him eat "why did you run away if you think you should be protecting your family?"  
  
Nicholas tried to speak through a mouthful of half chewed food and Lacroix had to look away from the nauseating sight to prevent himself from retching.  
"Swallow what's in your mouth before you speak." Lacroix instructed. Did no one teach manners any longer?  
  
After doing as he was told, Nicholas said, "Father had beaten me and all ready fallen asleep. He'll sleep until mid day tomorrow. I just wanted to get away for a little while. Mother knows I'll be back."   
  
Lacroix remembered the scars and welts he'd seen when Nicholas was bathing. He found himself wanting to strangle the abusive father who would do his to his own child. The force of the emotion surprised him. After all, he hadn't been an ideal father himself.   
  
Lacroix shook the thought away from his mind. Brooding would do no good.  
Still, he had no reasonable idea why he should be feeling so protective of this boy. Nicholas was nothing special, on the surface. He was very ordinary, really.   
  
Nicholas finished eating and gave a great yawn. Lacroix smiled and realized that he, too, was feeling quite weary. Dawn had come ago.   
  
"Very well." He said. "To bed with you." Lacroix gestured to his bed.  
  
"Are you sure, sir? I don't want to take your bed." Lacroix smiled as Nicholas began to fall asleep in front of him. Lacroix took the plate from Nicholas and set it on the table. He pulled back the covers of his bed and encouraged Nicholas to lay down.  
  
"Rest, child. Tomorrow night I will take you home." Nicholas smiled from where he now rested on the feather pillow.  
  
"On your horse?"  
  
"Of coarse."   
  
Nicholas' breathing changed and Lacroix knew he was asleep, likely dreaming of the next night's ride.  
  
Silently, Lacroix covered up the sleeping child and tucked him in. A small push with his mind ensured that he would sleep until the next night. Lacroix sat in the chair next to the bed and watched the boy sleep for a few moments.  
  
What wouldn't he give for a son like this!  
  
He had no desire to take children, however. Divia had shown him how wrong that was. Perhaps it would be for the best to wait a decade or two. Lacroix had plenty of time and patience.  
  
The vampire let himself fall asleep thinking about the future.  
  
  
NICHOLAS-  
  
  
Nicholas woke and found new clothes waiting for him. They were better, finer things than he'd ever had before. They were black and styled after Baron Lacroix's own clothing. Loose fitting trousers with a belt and a long sleeved shirt. Even the black cloak that the tall man wore.  
  
After he had dressed, Baron Lacroix came in and gave him a heavy gold chain to wear around his neck. Nicholas gaped at he generous gift and then looked up at his benefactor. He was so proud and pleased with how much they looked alike.  
The Baron smiled back at him and Nicholas wondered why his own father couldn't be more like this man.  
  
"Would you like to eat before we leave?" Lacroix asked kindly.  
  
"Yes, please, sir." Nicholas said quickly. The Baron gave him another feast and Nicholas was very grateful. He never seemed to get so much food. Father hated him for some reason. He only let Nicholas eat once in a while. If Nicholas behaved. Some days he didn't eat at all unless he could steal from the kitchen.   
After he'd eaten Lacroix stood and led him by the hand back to the stables where that wonderful horse waited for them.   
  
The man's hand felt very strong and secure to Nicholas. All he knew was that he felt safer with him than anyone else. Baron Lacroix could protect him. He just knew he would.  
  
They rode at a slow, easy pace though the night and Nicholas leaned back against Lacroix who, as he had last night, held Nicholas so he wouldn't fall.   
When they finally came into sight of the Brabant manor Nicholas said, without turning around,   
  
"Will you come back to visit me?"  
  
Lacroix paused only a moment before saying, "Perhaps, but you are welcome at my home, if you come at night."  
  
Nicholas nodded; satisfied that he would be able to sneak away again to see his friend.  
  
They halted at the front gate where a very pregnant woman was waiting.  
  
"Mother!" Nicholas cried happily. Baron Lacroix helped him off the horse without getting down himself.  
  
Lacroix felt a stab of jealously watching Nicholas embrace the woman who looked a great deal like him. Who was this sow to have Nicholas' love? She couldn't even shield him from her own husband.   
  
She looked up at Lacroix with the same crystal blue eyes as Nicholas and smiled.  
"Thank you for bringing him home." She said. "I was very worried when he wasn't back this morning."  
  
"He was my guest for a short while." Lacroix answered simply. He felt no need to explain anything to this cow, except to make sure Nicholas wasn't punished for this absence.  
  
She nodded her thanks again and continued, "Please, be our guest. I'm certain that Nicholas would enjoy it."  
  
Lacroix was about to refuse the invitation until he saw Nicholas look at him with such hope. Well... how could he refuse?  
  
They spent the remainder of the night together, Nicholas showing him around the estate. Lacroix followed where he was led obediently with an unusual smile of tolerant amusement. He, for once, didn't mind indulging Nicholas' excitement.   
  
The boy's mother was a bit uneasy at the thought of him spending the whole night out, but a few reassuring words from Lacroix set her mind at ease.  
  
As dawn approached, Nicholas began to lose his energy. He was getting very tired. Lacroix led him back to the manor where he tucked him into bed before going to his own chambers.   
  
He had requested, and received, and inner room without the danger of windows. Soon after lying down on the hard rough bed, he was sleeping soundly.  
  
Lacroix was slowly woken by the sounds of soft sobbing a small warm body huddled against him, shaking. His instinct, upon first waking, was to feed, but Lacroix had always thought himself better than a mere animal obeying primal urges.   
  
He opened his eyes and found Nicholas. He had crawled into Lacroix' bed sometime during the night. Now he was trying very hard not to cry.  
  
"Nicholas?" He sat up, putting and arm around the boy, trying to be comforting. "Mon enfant, what is wrong?"  
  
The quiet crying slowly stopped at Nicholas looked up at him with blood shot eyes, irritated from tears. "It hurts." Nicholas whimpered.  
  
Frowning, Lacroix pulled the blankets down, away from Nicholas and was shocked at what he found. Nicholas had been whipped. Brutally beaten like an animal! He was pale and shaking from the pain. There was also something else. Something far more monstrous than he wanted to think about.  
  
Lacroix looked closely at Nicholas. "Your father?"  
  
Nicholas nodded silently. Lacroix felt a murderous rage burn thought him that was only fueled when another terrible suspicion crept into his mind. He gently stroked the side of Nicholas' face. "Rest, Mon enfant. I will make everything better. There is no pain."  
  
Nicholas relaxed his whole body instantly and Lacroix helped him to straighten himself out. Nicholas lay on his belly so that Lacroix could more easily examine him.   
  
Lacroix washed the wounds with water from the basin by his bed and then wrapped his back and chest using the linens from his bed. Nicholas was about to fall asleep when Lacroix heard him say softly,   
  
"I wish you were my father."  
  
"Do you really?" The question was more directed at himself than the now sleeping Nicholas. Then he went in search of the Baron de Brabant. He found the beast snoring in to a plate of beef. The man woke abruptly and tried to fight, but Lacroix was far to strong.   
  
"Tell me plainly," Lacroix whispered in a deathly quiet voice as he stared into the dull eyes of his victim. "Did you rape your own son?"  
  
To frightened to think of a lie, the man nodded, unable to speak.  
  
Lacroix bit into the man deeply, not bothering to make the experience painless. He didn't even bother to drink the blood. He simply ripped the throat out of the man who had dared to harm his little Nicholas.  
  
From the entrance of the great hall, Nicholas' mother, the Baroness de Brabant, watched as her husband was brutally killed. She silently thanked God for sending this man, this angel, who would save her son's life and closed the door behind her. The guards would not enter unless called for, and she seriously doubted that anyone would call them. Certainly not her.  
  
When Nicholas woke in the morning he found that his friend had gone and his father was dead. The guards told Nicholas that his father had been found early the morning with his throat slashed and his own dagger in his hand. No one mourned the late Baron and Nicholas was recognized as the new Baron with his mother as his advisor.   
  
As Nicholas went through the formality of a funeral for his father, the top most thought on his mind was that he hoped his friend was at his home. Strangely, when Nicholas went to the neighboring estate it was completely abandoned, even the servants had vanished.   
  
Saddened, Nicholas returned home and could only hope that one day they would meet again.   
  
-END- 


End file.
